Richard Karon Part 12

UPDATE ON RICHARD KARON BIOGRAPHY -

A FEW WORDS FROM HIS SON-

     The moment I introduced myself to the artist's son, back in January, I knew we had been destined to meet, and to work together. It was as if I had known him for years. I had even experienced visions of this eventual meeting, one day, and a hunch, there was going to be some writing involved. I write a great deal about the paranormal, in my other line of work, so trust me, this kind of stuff happens a lot. For the past five years, I've had hundreds of requests to appraise Richard Karon paintings, as an antique dealer. Primarily, it all generated from an article, I had written some years earlier, that a painting owner had posted on the internet. I only became aware of this, when I finally asked my son to do a google-search, so I could identify what article these people were quoting, that I'd written many years earlier, for the local press. Right up until the fall of 2011, I was still answering these enquiries. As I've written about before, I was getting so many requests that I finally wrote a standard email to send back, offering what little information I had…..and ball park estimates on painting values. I remember saying to my wife Suzanne, that I should write this biography, just based on the volume of people who are seeking information. Of the many artists I know about, in our region, Karon requests are a hundred times, to each of the others I know a little about. This biography was destined, in many ways, to happen.

     It began two years earlier, when Richard Sahoff Karon contacted me, asking whether I had any biographic information on his father's art career, especially in Muskoka. I knew the story of Richard Karon Sr., but most of it was based on the actuality of numerous events, exhibitions, and contact, while his studio was still operational.

     I realized as soon as we began exchanging emails, that he would benefit from my participation, because there were things I knew, and people I had talked to, shortly after the artist's death, in 1987, that would shed some light on some details, the younger Richard needed to know about. As a newspaperman during the lated 1970's and 80's, I picked up news tips wherever I happened to be…..and for Richard Karon, the artist, that came during his mid-1980's auction sale of his remaining art, and the official closing of his studio. I knew something was seriously wrong that day, and when I talked to the artist's friend, Eva Scheel, shortly after reading a notice of the artist's death, (several years later) there was no doubt in my mind, this story would turn and confront me one day……as I had long admired his landscapes, and wanted his name to remain etched in local history, in respect to his contributions to art and culture in Muskoka. When Eva told me how sad he had been to leave his studio and home, in the Township of Lake of Bays, it confirmed for me, what had happened during the auction sale……when the pall over the event seemed to affect everyone……certainly those who knew the artist.

     Auction goers generally, are very sensitive to the prevailing situation, and why the auction is being held, in the first place. I can't really explain why, but it may be in the fact, that in those days, attending auctions regularly was a social event, as it was business for many of us dealer-kind. The same people showed up at every sale, and it became like a club. There were always newbies but they soon fell in with the regulars, and word went around about the nature and circumstances of the sale. The artist was upset this day, and no one who knew him, could offer any consolation that might have made him feel better. His marriage hadn't worked out. That's not unusual. It's pretty commonplace, in fact. Richard Karon had to be close to his son. That was the bottom line. Art wasn't as important as being close to his family. Being separated was problem enough for the family. He didn't need three to four hours of traveling time between him and his wife and son. Financially it was a necessary move. Emotionally, it was a necessary move. Enduring the stress of the move, was necessary as well.

     It would take me hours to explain to the artist's son, why I knew that we would eventually connect after all these years. In the two years' lapse, between the first time he contacted me, and January of this year, we had zero time to even think about taking on any research projects. My father had a stroke and even before he passed away, we had to close-out his apartment, and make plans for his accommodations in a nursing home. He never made it to that point, and died in hospital. The coincidence here, is that a Richard Karon original hung on the wall above his favorite chair in the apartment. He had worked with the artist in the early 1970's, when he was employed as an estimator and sales manager for Building Trades Centre, in Bracebridge, and had been on his studio property many times, doing measurements for windows, doors and cupboards. I suppose he also arranged for the lumber as well. My dad always told me that I should do a story on Richard Karon one day, when I worked for the newspaper, as he thought he was not only a good artist, but an easy person to talk with. That day of the auction, I purchased a number of framed landscapes off Richard, who was still manning his studio sales desk, and Ed picked the one he wanted for over his chair. Even when they shifted apartments, three times, the Richard Karon original, was always hung above my father's chair. I remember telling him, before he got sick, that I was planning to do some work for Karon's son, at some point, and he seemed quite pleased. "Tell him I enjoyed working with his father, won't you," I recall him saying. And I have. Numerous times. Sometimes fate does stuff like this……things we just can't explain, and just do because it feels right. When Richard got back to me, after a several year hiatus, I was already signed on, before we'd shaken hands. This was a project that had to happen, and being a big believer in the afterlife, I half assumed Richard had met up with Ed in that other dimension, and thought it would be a swell idea to finish what had been a decent plan a long time ago……that I do a story on a Muskoka artist, and the artist's son act as my co-writer and research assistant. As Richard worked with my father on his art studio project, here we were then, decades later, "two sons" with a final chapter to write, as if by providential necessity, to complete some ethereal circle. I warned my associate, that we would make some interesting connections, and have many serendipitous moments throughout the research, and well into the future, that would put people into our lives we could not have anticipated from the beginning. It has already happened in part. My gut feeling is, there's something in Poland that is beckoning the young Karon, and I told him, before I wrote the first word of this biography, that he would one day, be making a pilgrimage to his father's home. He might still think this is outlandish, and impossible at this point in his life, but I'm pretty sure, as the elder Karon had always wanted to return to see his family, he will give some encouragement from the "great beyond," that his son should make the trip he was denied by illness. One day!

     The younger Richard Karon is a frequent flier, as a charter jet pilot. He was away for a number of days, and I had to move on with the biography without his concluding words. I was so happy he still wanted them published on this blog site, to wrap-up the biography of his father. As I promised earlier, and I couldn't deliver because of a computer glitch, I have included this precious photograph of his young daughter Aurora, looking through her grandfather's easel, at the Lake of Bays studio of Muskoka artist, Janet Stahle-Fraser (near Baysville). The artist was kind enough to invite Richard into her studio, to see and photograph his father's easel, that he had given her shortly after closing his own studio / gallery. It was a puzzle piece found, as the younger Richard had asked many times, where the easel had gone, and each lead he followed, had proven wrong. Richard was ecstatic after the visit, and very thankful for Janet's kindnesses bestowed. The photograph, to me, says it all, as a chapter unto itself. That despite what the biography wears, seemingly as only misfortune and displeasure, hardship and suffering, it arrives, with great positivism, at an optimistic outlook for the future; a portal onto great adventures yet to come. From the encouragement of a loving family, this young lady, will come to welcome all the possibilities of a wonderful, remarkable life……and be richer in spirit, knowing more about the grandfather she never met. Being able to feel, for a lifetime, a connection to a beautiful place on earth, a link to Muskoka; feel those enchantments of nature, her artist grandfather thrived-on, and inherit the will and courage that Richard Karon demonstrated throughout his life…..for freedom of art, and liberation of spirit. I must again, thank the Karon family, for having permitted me to work on this important biography, which hopefully will benefit researchers and painting owners for years to come. Now in the words of my associate in this project…..Richard Sahoff Karon.

I have to begin by giving my most sincere, heartfelt thanks to Ted Currie and his wife Suzanne, for their time and effort on my father’s biography.  Words cannot begin to show my immense gratitude for this gift, I have waited a lifetime for.  I would also like to thank Robert, Ted and Suzanne’s son and Dani O'Connor, for their contribution with the video.  The help from family and friends in filling in the details, and their help in furthering my research has been truly priceless.  I also would like to extend my thanks to the many people who so quickly and enthusiastically responded to Ted’s article in the newspaper, seeking any information or comments on my father’s work, including Ms. L, who so warmly invited me into her house to admire, alongside her, two of my father’s paintings. I would also like to thank Baysville artist, Janet Stahle-Fraser, who is the current user of my father’s easel, and who without hesitation offered me the easel.  

Since my father’s death 25 years ago, I have longed to keep his legacy alive in my heart and mind.  There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think of him.  The opportunity to write my father’s biography in conjunction with someone who was himself so enamoured by my father’s work and had actually met him, was something that I simply could not pass up.  The timing of this project also could not have happened at a more opportune time, as I was contacted only late last year, for the first time in my life, by my father’s family members.  They had no idea of my father’s passing or even knowledge of my existence.  I had so many questions that had built up over the years that were finally beginning to get answered.  I finally found out for example that my father was the youngest of four siblings, and the only son.  I saw a photograph of my grandmother, his mother for the first time only a few months ago.  I am now sharing with them the story of my father, a man who through so many unbelievable hardships was able to make a living at what he loved, and in such a peaceful, beautiful setting.

I have always admired my father’s work, and am so pleased to see that it is at last getting the recognition it deserves.  As Ted mentions, not only does his work capture the spirit of the beautiful locations which he painted, but his story of how he got to where he did is astounding.  I have met some people recently who are still awe struck by his paintings, and it really is wonderful to hear.  To me he was simply my father, and he was an artist who painted beautiful paintings; I didn’t think there was anything uncommon about it.  Of course to many young boys, their father is larger than life.  I am no exception to this rule, and continue to admire his work and accomplishments.  I have nearly 40 pieces of his work, many of them hanging on my walls at home.  I feel like they’re watching over me.  About 10 years ago I was given 3 of his paintings by a co-worker, Peter Freake, whom I worked with at Air Canada in Toronto.  Through conversation it was determined that he had 3 of my father’s pieces, and that I was his son.  He told me how his mother had an art gallery in Toronto, and had sold several of my father’s pieces.  I believe they knew each other, as my understanding was, that she came up to the studio in Baysville to buy them.  These particular paintings hung in Peter’s home.  When he determined my relation to the artist, he had no hesitation in giving me the paintings.  Sadly Peter passed away a few years ago, but I will never forget his generosity and cherish these paintings which now hang in my home.  He spoke of all the years those paintings hung on his wall, and the joy they brought him and his family.  

I don’t know how to begin to thank all the people involved in helping with this biography.  It has been such an amazing few months, with new discoveries and stories about my father surfacing regularly.   It is difficult to lose one’s parents at any age, but as my father’s only child, and having him pass away at such a young age, without knowing very much about his life story, it has left a huge hole in my life.  My mother tells me of how her father passed away when she was in her thirties, but that he was never there for her and she reminds me of how lucky I was to have a father who loved me so much, regardless of how little time I had with him.  I remember him as a good father, with lots of love for me, although I do remember him having a temper as well.  My mother and father’s relationship was not an easy one.  She puts a lot of blame on the events that shaped him during WWII.  Although I would say that I can see how each one of them might be difficult to live with, I cannot image the horrors my father witnessed during that time and what kind of a man he would have been if he did not go through that.  In this regard I can side with my mother, that what is now known as post traumatic stress disorder, was evident in his life and how he reacted to the world around him.  My mother also mentions that I brought great joy to his life, as since he had lost contact with his family in Poland, I was now his only blood relative.  He was very protective of me for this reason; my mother also claims in her opinion that he spoiled me.  Of course I don’t remember things that way!  Looking back, and as I learn more of his character and the events that shaped his life, I can see how he did become a very reputable artist; in fact he was able to do many things well.  I remember that he was a good cook, a skilled carpenter, he spoke several languages Polish, English and I’m quite sure French and German as well, unfortunately he never taught me.  This is beginning to be evident, I regret, with the raising of my daughter, as I speak Spanish and French and have not taught her as much as I should have, but I am trying to improve.  

Although I did not experience the hardships that my father went through, I am his son, and as I learn more about him I am beginning to see more of myself in him.  I miss him tremendously.  I hope that those of you who have his pieces continue to cherish and enjoy them.  A piece of my father is in each one.

Richard Karon Part 11

RICHARD KARON BIOGRAPHY - OUR CONCLUSION IS ACTUALLY OUR BEGINNING

THE LEGACY OF A MUSKOKA ARTIST -

     The cycle of life. This blog-biography has been written in journal format. Daily entries. Carrying inadvertent judgements about good or inclement weather, and how it affects my arthritic fingers. Curious activities in the neighborhood. They always inspire me to be happy or angry. Like when a chainsaw is being wielded by a neighbor, unfamiliar with the lot lines, between his property and ours. All with the burden of strange moods, like wearing a cat on my shoulders, but feeling obliged to let fate run its course. I am not an island, you see, and each day brings about new interests, and initiatives I wish to launch. I get bored easily, so I try to self-inspire by reading and walking in the woods, numerous times each day.

     I have incorporated updates on the weather, what it was like during my walks down into the boglands, here at Birch Hollow, in the Town of Gravenhurst, and included news of the recent passing of an old friend here, by the name of John Black, who worked with me when I was an editor with Muskoka Publications. I most recently learned of the passing, of another friend, and former hockey teammate, Kim Hammond of Bracebridge, and this has been within one week, while finishing up the text of this biography of Muskoka Artist Richard Karon. I awoke this morning, at 5:30 a.m., to get a head start on this final chapter, only to find one of our house cats, named Fester, on the brink of her demise, and Suzanne and I spent the final hours of her life, passing her from one lap to the other, until the end. I buried her in a level bit of ground near where the trilliums will soon burst through the soft earth, and blossom in the May sunlight. I stood out in our little woodlot, listening to the chatter of birds and squirrels in the overhead boughs, thinking about the cycle of life, and how despite the passing of one life, budding new existence is in evidence all around me. Every day that I have sat at this keyboard, I have been influenced by all kinds of events and activities in this house, on our property, and over in the calming woods, situated above The Bog, here on Segwun Boulevard. Some days I have wound up here, at this old and familiar desk, full of vim and vinegar, and sat for hours typing the Karon biography. On other days, I've had several of our other rescue cats (that had been dumped in our neighborhood), resting on my lap, or on the window sill, their gentle, non-intrusive purring, settling my impatience to get more done, at a faster pace.

    There have been other times when I felt the urgent need to wander through the woods, and experienced some unanticipated resentment, having to work all day to meet deadlines. On other occasions, with Mozart playing in the background, I felt as if I was born to write. The next day, the complete opposite. I hated being a writer. After having just buried our own bandy-legged wee beastie, we called Fester, inspired by the Addams Family, I didn't feel up to writing at all. I stared out the window, trance-like, for what must have been a half hour. All of a sudden, just before making a decision to take the day off, I had this thought about the cycle of life, and how I've written this biography in journal format…..so that I would reflect the mood of the moment…..the light and shadow of each day. This was intentional, because I wanted it to be personal. While it would seem preposterous to put news of a cat's death, into the body copy of a book, as it was unrelated to the story, it wasn't so ridiculous to include the event in this blog……at this moment. And after I'd decided to make a little tribute, to my old friend Fester, I felt better.

   Writing has always been a release for me, in this regard. Funny thing, though, that after eleven chapters of the biography, about the personal challenges of being an artist, I had just put myself in the very same position, as Mr. Karon had found himself in…….throughout his artistic career. He had to paint through the same fluctuations of inspiration and moodiness, contentment and frustration, happiness and sadness……, that I have experienced and worked through, every day of this biography, from early January. Without thinking about it before, it took the last of an old cat's nine lives, to make me realize the actuality of the creative process. What Karon faced each day, to produce his landscapes, I had been subtly etched, by precisely the same ups and downs, of too much inspiration, or not enough. I sat for a few moments pondering this epiphany. Realizing that every mood I studied, about the artist, was exactly the same enterprise, that I was utilizing to write his biography. On positive days, when I felt rested and excited about the day's work, I'd write twice as much, with a lot fewer corrections to deal with when editing. When I found myself, by circumstance, melancholy, and frustrated, I not only wrote less, but had hours of work, to correct mistakes. I thought about Karon having thrown still wet, rolled-up canvases into storage, because he was unhappy with his work that day. I often re-wrote chapters three times to make improvements. Of course, that is the forgiveness of a computer screen versus stretched canvas.

Richard Karon in the forest

     "There is serene and settled majesty in woodland scenery, that enters into the soul, and dilates and elevates it, and fills it with noble inclinations," wrote Washington Irving, in his book, "Bracebridge Hall." "They are haunted by the recollections of great spirits of past ages, who have sought for relaxation among them from the tumult of arms, or the toils of state, or have wooed the muse beneath their shade."

     For well more than a decade now, I have kept this book, by Washington Irving, on my desk, no further than my outstretched arm. I purchased it, in the late 1990's, when I was doing research regarding the official naming of the Town of Bracebridge. The name came from Irving's book, as granted by Postal Authority, William Dawson LeSueur. LeSueur of course, gave the fledgling post office its name, as a tribute to a great author of the time……and as much, a gesture of goodwill, for the future prosperity of a pioneer settlement. A name with considerable literary provenance, to one of the best known authors of the day, a parallel talent to writer Charles Dickens. LeSueur when he wasn't administering business for the federal postal department, was also making a name for himself, as a literary critic and historian. While it's been about 14 years since I started my research on Irving, and LeSueur, it's been roughly the same time, trying to convince the Town of Bracebridge they should be proud of their namesake. Hasn't happened yet. I'm not hopeful either. Point is, I found the writings of Mr. Irving to fit my own moods and outlooks, and I consult it frequently for inspiration. When I would pause to think about Richard Karon's landscapes, and about the panoramas he captured in the Township of Lake of Bays, I might find little gems like the following, that reminded me how storied our woodlands have been throughout history.

     "As the leaves of trees are said to absorb all noxious qualities of the air, and to breathe forth a purer atmosphere, so it seems to me as if they drew from us all sordid and angry passions, and breathed forth peace and philanthropy," wrote the American author, creator of the famous "Legend of Sleepy Holly," and "Rip Van Winkle."

     I wish, for the preparation of this biography, I had enjoyed the company of the painter himself. It would have been so much more insightful and complete, if I had even been able to read notes, he might have penned into a personal journal. I would have been contented to have read anything, the man had thought important enough to jot down, even hastily, on notes he made of paintings, and sizes he required for wood framing. For much of this, I have depended on the word of others. I've spent a lot of time and research, looking at the circumstances of his life, and his travels in Europe and to North America, without a shred of hard evidence, other than the papers he filed as a "displaced person" seeking refuge in Canada. While the Karon family has been very generous with all the information they possessed, and have held nothing back, that would help fulfill this biography, it is still the case, much of the story has been diminished because the artist, himself, didn't play a key role in the editorial content. The same situation, occurred for me, during the preparation of the biography for Outdoor Education Teacher / Canadian book collector, David Brown, of Hamilton. I needed Dave Brown at my side, because everything else had to come from friends and associates. He appointed me as his biography, and died before we had written the first word of chapter one. Dave didn't leave any journals behind, that would have helped me with actuality, and the personal integrity of the biography. It became my story, and the story as recalled by others. The same can be said for Richard Karon, that my regret remains, I didn't have the chance to conduct a sit-down discussion, in person, to converse candidly, about the artist's interests and objectives.

     As a matter of some irony, after twelve years, I have only just recently, received a large contribution of editorial material, regarding Dave Brown, and his Camp Comack (Haliburton) days, working as an outdoor instructor. These reminiscences came from a long time friend who contacted me recently, referencing what I had already written about our mutual friend. He hadn't been aware that Dave had passed away, in the late 1990's, as he had been in Western Canada. The information that he provided me, while late, is still very relevant to the story of this well known outdoor educator…..and will be used in biographical updates. I'm sincerely hoping this will be the case with Richard Karon, that new information will be submitted in the years to come, to infill what we presently don't know about his early years as an artist, traveling in Europe. The great advantage of composing this as an online biography, is that it can be easily updated and revised, as new information becomes available. As with Mr. Brown's book, I'm not likely to reprint it, but rather, bring it to cyberspace as well, so it to can be upgraded with newfound material when available.

     There is a dog eared letter, pasted into the scrapbook, Richard Karon kept for his cut-out press reviews, that deserves special mention. It was dated the second of November 1976, and was written by an individual who had read an article, published in the North Bay Nugget, about one of the artist's exhibitions. It may be the case, this art admirer also saw one of his paintings up close, possibly at a North Bay showing, but didn't actually approach the artist at this time. The letter is poorly written, somewhat difficult to read, and eccentric, but Karon found something important about the message within. It obviously contained something he identified with, because it is pasted side-by-side letters of thanks, from Frank Henry, former administrator of South Muskoka Memorial Hospital, recognizing the gift, of an original painting, the artist had just recently presented to the health-care facility. It begins, "Mr. Karon. Please be kind enough to read me. Sunday afternoon, again I was moved by your painting. Now to read how, you too, have been out of a job, penniless, also exiled from your country, because you have great courage; and with hard work and perseverance, you've done it. I will go on alone; the example of your life gives me the assurance that I've done well, to leave everything behind, to paint with oxygen. Well, I just want to say, I admire your courage - love your skies - thanks for being you - a person in a million, who is still able to impress me; a person (the letter writer) who has suffered, to conquer threats myself, in the beauty of the hour, leaving forever. One can be so lonely, in this field of time, to keep a vestige of a moment in color, of a deep emotion, surrounded by futility in this world of over-consumption - when the true soul is forever a foreigner. Thanks again and accept my respect."

     The Richard Karon biography has been remarkable in many ways, and very much different from others I have worked on, during the past twenty years. I was, quite frankly, unsettled, at the beginning of the project, to find out that this significant Muskoka artist, had been buried in relative obscurity, away from the District he loved so much. Without reference, at graveside, to him having been an established Canadian Artist, and a friend of Muskoka, seemed reason enough to start making amends…..for what we should have done, in his memory, much earlier than this. Even his obituary, in the local press, in March 1987, wasn't more than a few paragraphs of very few words. I have no idea now, whether I wrote anything in The Muskoka Sun, The Muskoka Advance or The Herald-Gazette, of which I was an editor at the time of his death. I can't imagine having let this event go without acknowledgement, but I long-ago, sent off my paper files for re-cycling. What should have been front page news, was relegated to the community news, and I realize how we missed an important opportunity, to celebrate a storied and accomplished life.

     I know the family is considering some type of memorial tribute, to the work of Richard Karon, in the Village of Baysville, but as of yet it hasn't been finally determined, what would be most suitable, and appropriate, to remind citizens and seasonal residents, of the landscapes he was best known.

     I would like to thank all the kind folks who helped us out, during the course of this research, with stories and images of original Karon paintings in their possession. They have helped us build a resource for the future, and it is already being sought out by those interested in the artist's life. It has been submitted, of course, to both the National Art Gallery and the Art Gallery of Ontario, for their respective reference libraries…..for use by researchers in the future. I want to add special thanks to Muskoka artist Janet Stahle-Fraser, of the Township of Lake of Bays, for sharing, with the artist's son, and his daughter, Mr. Karon's original easel, which he gave to her shortly after closing his studio in the mid 1980's. The photograph with today's summation, of the Karon Biography, shows the artist's granddaughter, Aurora, peeking through the easel, still being used by the Lake of Bays artist. The background, of course, is Janet's studio setting. The meeting occurred in March, and it was certainly a highlight for Richard Sahoff Karon, as he had been searching for the elusive easel for many years.

     One art patron, who possesses several Karon originals, invited the young Karon and myself, to her house to see his father's paintings, and the hospitality we were shown, was generous and heart-warming. She asked only that her name not be used. Just having the opportunity to see how she had hung these paintings in a pine-clad Muskoka room, made us feel pretty good, about the respect his work was still garnering, years after his death. Both paintings were of waterscapes in close vicinity to Baysville.

     We had many kind notes and so many offers to visit, to see his major paintings, in homes across the district. We made this connection, in large part, thanks to the kindness of our regional newspaper, The Weekender, which published two of our requests for information on Mr. Karon. The responses were amazing, and at least half of this biography, and the available art images, came courtesy The Weekender's readership. Only hours after the first request was published, and the free Friday papers being delivered to the driveways throughout the district, we had begun receiving emails, and all kinds of offers of assistance, we couldn't have anticipated from just a Letter to the Editor. It was almost non-stop for two full weeks, and it literally gave the biography its wings.

     My son Robert and his musical partner, Dani O'Connor, of Gravenhurst, provided the music for the tribute video, which I hope you will take time to watch again. Robert did the filming and created the video. Dani provided the vocals.

     Here is a list of those friends of this biography, who offered us, on loan, images of their Richard Karon paintings; Joyce A. Medley, Beverley J. Robinson, Ches. and Betty Fulton, Shirley Bullock, Marilyn MacDougall, Kristina Campbell, Lois and Barry Swan, Ken and Cheryl Mann, Leigh Beal, Ike Kelneck, Peter Jackson, Ellen Gofforth and Rhoda Moeller and the collection of paintings owned by Richard Sahoff Karon. If we have left your name off this list we have done so inadvertently. Please let us know we have left your name off and we will make the correction.

Richard Karon Part 10

THE BIOGRAPHIES OF ARTISTS WE SHOULD KNOW - BUT DON'T

RICHARD KARON'S BIOGRAPHY IS IMPORTANT TO FAMILY, COMMUNITY, AND CANADA

     

     "Art when really understood is the province of every human being. It is simply a question of doing things, anything well. It is not an outside extra thing…..He does not have to be a painter or a sculptor to be an artist. He can work in any medium. He simply has to find the gain in the work itself, not outside it." Robert Henri.

     As a career hunter-gatherer, in the antique and collectible trade, I've always possessed a keen interest in art. I can cross almost any boundary of art-form and period, as long as the subject piece is of high quality. It might be a painting, or carving, sculpture or multimedia composition. A life drawing, a wildlife painting, floral / still life, folk art, or heavy iron sculpture. If I can afford it, and have the space to house it safely, and feel it might be a good investment piece, for potential re-sale at some point, it will be coming to live with me. I love art and artists. I adore artisans and folk artists. I have great admiration for those who can work with their hands, their mouths, as Myron Angus and other artists have painted, (I own one of Myron's original landscapes), and all those who live creatively, whether as musicians, writers, weavers, potters, glass blowers, wood carvers and everyone else who gets up in the morning, and with enthusiasm, wishes to create something……even a poem, or even a basic observation penned in a journal, about life and work in their flourishing gardens.  They see and feel what we would all benefit from, living in this lakeland. Their creations inspire us to explore, what we have ignored.

    I have been fortunate to have lived a creative life, as well, and I am so pleased to reside in a district, in this fine province, and country, that is so well populated with creators….visionaries, adventurers, who benefit from our beautiful surroundings in this magnificent lakeland. There is an undeniable energy here, found to be so abundant and liberating, by the early painters and poets who sought refuge here, from the industry and mayhem of the urban environs……and were encouraged by associate artists, such as those writers and poets, who gathered to participate at the Muskoka Assembly, on Tobin's Island, Lake Rosseau, back in the 1920's and 30's. The Chataqua colony found something spiritual here, and it is still being sought out, and discovered.

     While they don't get the recognition, I think they deserve, the associations of Muskoka Arts and Crafts and the member artisans belonging to the Muskoka Autumn Studio Tour, amongst other arts related groups in our district, are important assets to the artistic / cultural vibrancy of our region. They bring an international recognition to our district of Ontario, as a nurturing place, for the arts, and thanks to their talents and strong alliances, throughout the community, many other artists have decided to locate here, broadening the diversity and attractiveness of home-inspired creative enterprise. As for the art community's contribution to the tourism industry, I think this is a largely ignored, or under-appreciated statistic locally. Thousands of visitors to Muskoka, through the four seasons, will find the arts community alive and well. Their hospitality is legend. What an amazing opportunity it is, during the Muskoka Autumn Studio Tour, for example, to be invited into the studios of participating artists, and artisans. Many other artists in the region, also open their studios to visitors. This is the kind generosity and hospitality that creates longterm goodwill, and a strong provincial, national and international reputation, as being an arts and crafts haven. I think sometimes, we forget, or at least minimize their contribution to the arts and cultural diversity going on here, that has been building steadily for decades without much fanfare or government focus. What we have here, is a rich and generous colony of creative thinkers, who are imbedded in one of the most naturally picturesque regions in Canada. They are representing us well, internationally, and we should realize this……and support them, as they have supported and brought positive recognition to our region. While Richard Karon didn't remain with the Studio Tour for long, he was part of the inaugural autumn season event in the mid 1970's.

     Having spent the past four months, working on the biography of former Muskoka artist, Richard Karon, I confess to being overwhelmed by the positive qualities of art in life. Even though the biography of Mr. Karon, is one of hardship, oppression, failings and almost impossible financial difficulties, for the young immigrant, the story is as compelling, because of its successes and the true measure, of what liberation and democracy can set free of creative enterprise……of which so many of us benefitted, owning his original paintings. The Muskoka lakeland set the artist free, to explore and celebrate his own adventures of discovery. He celebrated these opportunities, and this shows through his art work. He never gave up on Muskoka as a place of inspiration. When he finally left the region, due to a marital separation, he had retired from active painting altogether. It was not the case he couldn't have survived as a landscape artist for years to come. His illness, however, would have only allowed him several more years of active painting. Having grown-up in Nazi occupied Poland, his sense of liberation was deeply, and profoundly felt. He wanted his son to enjoy the qualities of life he had been denied as a young man. While he was not fervent about his political beliefs, and one who seldom discussed politics, he found Canada full of promise and potential, and a safe country for his family. He knew the consequences of an unsafe place to live. Muskoka was fertile ground for family and profession.

     As an art lover and collector, I always hate coming upon an art piece, appropriately signed, possibly dated, with a trace amount of provenance, but be unable to find anything out about the painter, sculptor or craftsperson. It's the first thing we do, once home after a picking adventure. We head to the internet first of all, and do an online search of the artist's name. Ninety-five percent of the time, we find nothing. Not one shred of biographical detail about the artist's life and career. Now of course, many talented artists never followed creative enterprise, as the sole source of income. They may have been like Bracebridge Artist Bob Everett, who was a career pharmacist, owning his own drug store. He painted in the after-hours and then in retirement, and became a well known landscape artist. There were other artists, such as Bill Anderson and Winifred Anderson, who were highly skilled landscape painters, but did so mostly for enjoyment, and only a little bit of profit. Bill was a barber, who used to paint at his easel, in his Manitoba Street shop……in between, or even during barbering sessions. No one cared. It was a joy to watch. He would cut hair for a few moments, make his tea, and then take a quick turn at the easel because, he spotted something he wanted to add. We were all glad to have this wonderful opportunity, to watch a painter in action.

     It bothers me, that when, for example, we do a search for information, on former Gravenhurst artist, Frank Johnston, one of the finest lithographers in Canada, we find only reference to former Group of Seven artist Frank "Franz" Johnston. For many years, Frank dominated our art scene in Gravenhurst, with his nostalgic artwork, even appearing on the menu covers of the famous Sloans Restaurant, on Muskoka Road. He had produced a number of massive watercolors, depicting Gravenhurst's historic wharf, with its legendary fleet of steamships, all for Sloans customers to enjoy. Our boys went in for our weekend lunches, mostly to admire the paintings. Here was this incredibly talented artist, living a couple of streets from the main business corridor, and few knew, or cared to know, who he was. Well, if you were to read the book, "Hot Breakfast for Sparrows," the biography of Canadian Artist, Harold Town, by Iris Nowell, you would realize that Frank Johnston was one of few print makers anywhere, good enough for Mr. Town. Town was notoriously difficult to deal with, and Johnston was trusted to turn out perfect prints. What annoys me, as an art lover and historian, is that we can so easily forget and dismiss someone of his calibre, and accomplishments, in the field of art. He painted impressions of hundreds of Canadian historic sites, that are still proudly owned by museums, and yet you won't find a Frank Johnston memorial tribute in this town. The pre-occupation with our political leaders can be nauseating at times. This is the history that gets most ink. Government. Political will. Municipal authority. Political stories in the press that aren't anything more than filler. It's wrong not to know about other history makers.  Artists like Frank Johnston gave us an arts pedigree, and a legacy to uphold, that we should have cherished in perpetuity. How nice it would be, at this time of celebration, for the upcoming anniversary of the RMS Segwun, to have our Frank Johnston originals returned….even on loan for an exhibit. They were sold and re-located to Huntsville. This was not the way it was supposed to be, and our town ended the relationship with this generous artist badly. Of course we should make amends. The first step, is by celebrating the fine art he produced while living and working in our town. If you read the first years of Muskoka Today, you would have seen the portraits of the columnists, sketched by Frank Johnston. And yes, I was one of those honored columnists.

     The point is, I have received hundreds of calls and emails over the years, asking if I knew any biographical information on Richard Karon. In fact, I have received more information requests about Mr. Karon than any other local artist. Part of this, is the fact that many of his paintings, sold in the 1970's, to an older clientele, have been dispersed by estates in the past decades. New owners, finding these art panels, at antique shops and included in estate auctions, have created new interest in the artist. At one time, several years ago, I pre-wrote a standard email, for those Karon related inquiries, offering all the information I possessed on the artist's painting career. Well, I don't need it any longer. I will soon be able to direct those painting owners to a special "Karon Blogsite," for reference, and this makes me feel pretty good. I wish more family members, like the Karons, would take a sincere interest in creating better biographical resources for their artist kin, because it is needed, and would be well used in the future. I plan, myself, to embark on a cursory investigation of Frank Johnston, to develop at the very least, an information base for future researchers and painting (and print) owners to access. I know Frank was pretty disgruntled about our town, when he moved back to Picton, Ontario, and I'd like to right some of those wrongs, by demonstrating how much his work meant to citizens and visitors over so many years. To think the town governance might one day recognize his contribution, to our cultural and historic identity, well, wouldn't that be swell. This would be the right thing to do, and I will offer my services, without cost, to advance such an important initiative.

     As I am drawing to the conclusion of the biography of Richard Karon, I want to make sure, readers and those who visit the Karon blogsite in the future, feel welcome to inter-act with us, and the artist's family, via email comments which we would love to publish, as reference, on the site. If you have a personal story, about having met with the artist, in the past, or you wish to comment on a painting you own, share a photograph of an original in your possession, or just offer a critique on the biography, out of general interest, we want you to participate, to further develop the scope and diversity of this research material. We have welcomed critical overviews and observations from other artists. No artist or original work, stands free of constructive critique. If you would like to get a message to a family member, we will eventually provide a suitable link. The artist's son, Richard Sahoff Karon, is interested in knowing more about his father, beyond what we have uncovered in this biography so far. We are interested in all new information, and particularly from Poland, where the artist was born. We are admittedly deficient in information up to the time Karon arrived in Muskoka, back in the late 1960's. As this work will be shared, and translated, at some point, for readers in Poland, we do expect new information to be forthcoming, and possibly corrections of historical detail. We will never discourage information that changes details or assumptions in this biography. This is the reason it was published online, and not in book-form, to enable us to make additions and corrections, as new information prevails upon us. We hope you will agree to be part of this biography-building, for Polish-Canadian Artist, Richard Karon.

     In tomorrow's blog, I would like to share with you, the names of many fine folks, who helped create this biography, by offering information about their contact with the artist, and family, and so generously provided images of Karon originals, in their possession. Those paintings that were not released on the blogsite, or seen in the video tribute to Mr. Karon, will be published on the official blogsite dedicated to the artist.

     The biography has been sent to both the National Art Gallery and the Art Gallery of Ontario, for the use by their respective reference libraries. It has been made available, for reference and promotion, to the Polish-Canadian Association, the Township of Lake of Bays, the Huntsville and Lake of Bays Chamber of Commerce, the Huntsville Public Library, the Lake of Bays Association, and Muskoka Arts and Crafts. We hope that this biography will inspire others, to make the effort, to set down the personal records of so many other Muskoka region artists, who have contributed so much, for so long, to the development and exhibition of our cultural heritage.

      "Those who bring beauty to the heart of man shall yet stand the peer of those who bring knowledge to the mind."  Morris Gray.

      It's sunny this afternoon. The boglands here at Birch Hollow are beckoning. Bosko has enthusiastically brought me her leash. I get the message. I shall, with my friend, go for a walk. Thanks so much for joining today's blog. More to follow.

Richard Karon Part 9

     "To learn something about crafts and craftsmen is to learn about the history of the race. Each craft is the rich repository of many years of practical experimentation and knowledge by men and women whose very lives were shaped and enhanced by the work of their hands. More than wars, more even than literature or the chronicles of kings and great men, the crafts reflect our universal past. They also demonstrate with beauty and precision, how generations of creativity went into developing and refining hundreds of regional variations that are only now blending, losing their identities." John Seymour, "The Forgotten Arts & Crafts."

RICHARD KARON BIOGRAPHY -

THE BIOGRAPHER'S RELATIONSHIP WITH ART AND ARTISTS-

     "We frequently use the term creative artist, and quite rightly so. But to be truly aware of art as one of the finest and most beautiful of human activities is not as simple as it sometimes seems. There would appear to be no grounds for doubting that when you look at a painting, statue or drawing, read a poem or listen to a violin sonata, you are dealing not with natural phenomena but with the creations of the human mind, heart and hands. But a work of art is objectivised, removed from its creator and appears to us, the public, in its own independent characteristic form, which is revealed especially patently, fully and completely in the fine arts. This form is based on objects and phenomena in life, although there can be no question of identity," wrote art historian, Vladislav Zimenko, in his 1976 book, "The Humanism of Art. "Nevertheless, when we perceive a painting, sculpture or engraving we automatically and quite reasonably relate the forms we see to the forms of real-life objects, often even to the extent of forgetting that they are not identical. The joy of recognition of familiar objects tends to take precedence over the joy derived from the aesthetic reproductions and representation." He also wrote that, "Art creates a special world organized by the will and wisdom of the artist, in which we are all the time aware of refections of his artistic nature even, where he had been at great pains to hide them."

     I have known many artists. I have studied them at work, and marveled at their intuition and imagination, to create works that are alluring and provocative, inspiring and exciting….. but I am wary of the alchemy at their beck and call. I have read hundreds of books on fine arts, some dating back hundreds of years. Yet, I am no closer to understanding the arts, but suffice that I am able to appreciate them, by my own unreserved innocence.

     Every year, I am tempted by some offer, to work on a biography. Not my own. That would be pretty boring, compared to some members of our citizenry, past and present, who have had remarkable lives. It's true. All the biographies I have written, to date, are about subjects who are deceased. There was one exception. When I wrote a tribute biography for National Hockey League goaltender, Roger Crozier, working as a corporate executive, for an American bank. When I was later hired as a contributor to a larger book project, by his bank in Delaware, Roger was very sick, and before the text was completed, he had passed away. For whatever reason, the biography was shelved. "Daredevil Goalie," was the first book written on Roger, after he won the Conn Smythe Trophy, in the 1960's, and my tribute biography was the last cursory hockey biography. This was produced in the mid 1990's. Roger was so pleased with it, that he invited me to visit him in Delaware, and tour MBNA headquarters. He had a great life beyond the accomplishments of professional hockey.

     In 2011, I re-published the biography of Ada Florence Kinton, a pioneer artist, missionary, of Huntsville, both online and in a neat little publication known as "Curious; The Tourist Guide," that I've been writing for during the past decade. The Kinton story is one I've repeated three times now, for regional publications, and on the third (revised) release, I finally got word from a family member. Which was fantastic, and the fact the family appreciated the story was even better.

     In the case of Richard Karon, the fact I got involved in the story, dates back to my early days as a hobby art collector. As I've written about previously, I developed a fascination for art at a young age. As a kid, I was sick a lot. I can remember laying on the couch in our livingroom, on so many of those days, staring at the ceiling. When not looking there, I was studying the only two paintings my mother and father owned. One was a William Kranley, who had once been connected to the Ontario College of Art, and another painting by T.Looksooner. My mother had worked as a secretary for Mr. Kranley, and as a gift, he gave her a wonderful autumn landscape, probably painted in the late 1940's. Merle purchased the Looksooner painting, of ocean waves crashing against the shore, in the early 1960's, when the painter brought some panels to a neighbor's apartment, while we were living in Burlington. I wasn't surrounded by art, as a kid, but I was certainly affected by the little we had……other than cheap prints to fill wall space.

     Part of my fascination, was that these two modest paintings, could cheer me up, when I was feeling poorly. The autumn scene, while melancholy in appearance, made me feel calm and comfortable, and the ocean scene evoked a sense of "sailing away" and coolness, if I had a fever. I held great respect for artists, who could provide such tender care and gentle adventure for a sick kid. It made me want to learn how to paint. I tried. Around Birch Hollow today, you can find all kinds of attempts by the writer, to be a painter. Suffice to say, I am a painter. A house painter. My most recent accomplishment in painting, was a re-decorated bathroom. So I have spent most of a life-time collecting, and selling interesting art, satisfying myself as an admirer of the paintings, I could never excel at myself.

      I remember an occasion, when I arrived back at the antique shop, I operated with my parents, in Bracebridge, and Merle was ecstatic about a deal she had wangled with a customer. Thinking we had made thousands of dollars, she instead produced a tiny but well executed pencil sketch of the Empire State Building, in New York. Merle got it by trading a pair of old glasses, to a client in desperate need. The gentleman was an American artist who had been staying in Muskoka, who had, by some misadventure, damaged his own vintage-style spectacles. It was on a day he couldn't find anyone to make repairs, and he was driving home that afternoon. He had them taped together in a rather awkward fashion. He decided to drop in to our newly opened shop, circa 1977, before leaving town, and to his delight, he found the old pair of wire glasses I'd purchased the week before at an auction. It seems the parts could be switched, and he could unwrap the tape from his glasses. He confessed to being quite out of money, which we used to hear a lot, but he had an original pencil sketch he had in his portfolio, that he had drawn recently. Merle liked it, and thought we could double our money, at least, from what the old spectacles were priced at…..and she was right. She had made a very astute trade, and many years later the small original sketch sold for about $150.00, I believe. The glasses had been on sale for ten bucks.

     There was another case, when a local artist came into the store with ten original oil paintings, on carved pieces of half inch plywood. They were nicely sculpted around the edges, unframed, with wire hangers, but a lot of folks objected to the plywood. The art work was brilliant. Wonderful nature studies that were all very well executed, and would have looked magnificent on masonite or canvas……just not on plywood. We took them on consignment, and Merle, feeling a little sorry for the talented artist, down on his luck, bought the little paintings……and then gave them to me for my apartment, which admittedly had a few bare walls.

     I can remember the spring I graduated university in Toronto, getting a little financial windfall, and taking a portion of the money and investing it in art. At the time I didn't know too much about art as an investment, so I made a crappy decision. I sold one of the three but I gave the other originals to my parents for the bare walls in their new apartment, in the years after we closed our shop. After my parents died, several years ago, I inherited those two paintings, now sitting in my archives room, reminding me daily about the precarious art market. It's not that they aren't good paintings, just that they aren't good enough to earn any serious returns for my multi-decade investment. Merle and Ed thought they were great, and for me, that was all the icing I needed on the cake.

     As I've also mentioned previously, I grew up in a town with three prominent artists, working on the main street of town, at roughly the same time. Bob Everett was the artist / pharmacist, on Manitoba Street, Bill Anderson was the painter / barber, and my old chum (who I just chatted with recently) Ross Smith, was the artist / gas jockey at his father's Uptown Garage. All three were accomplished landscape artists. Ross still paints regularly, and of this I'm delighted. I have one of his originals he did for me, of a rustic cabin on a quiet stretch of Muskoka River. Ross was my neighbor at York University's "Winter's College," and he always had a painting on the go, or stacks of his old work, which I used to beg, and haul home in my girlfriend Gail's Volkswagon. It can be said of me, I never left a panel behind. And my girlfriend always wanted to kick my…………." She always knew, that faced with a romantic decision, between her and the art panels, I was going to have a lot of art on my walls…..but a crappy romantic life.

     This is, of course, is a round-about way of getting back to the subject of this blog-biography. As I have been a staunch supporter of the arts community, in Muskoka, and one of the "behind the scenes," negotiators, for the present Chapel Gallery, in Bracebridge (Muskoka Arts and Crafts operated site), I could very easily select another artist biography over a generous offer to write the life story of a hockey player, golfer, politician or magician. I've interviewed and promoted hundreds of local artists over the years, for news and feature publications, and I've never been disappointed by the experience or the outcomes. I've interviewed sculptors like Richard Green, one of the most colorful interviews I've ever had, (what a character) wood artisans like Don Thur, pottery artists, such as Jon Partridge, bird carvers……, Weldon Tracey was always a charming gentleman to interview; artists like Doug Dunford. I always wanted to own the original Dunford painting of the tractor known as "Minnesota Moline," but alas, I was a poor reporter, without a budget for nice art work. I have met and written about so many talented artists in this inspiring region of Ontario, which has always been as enjoyable for me, as I hope it was, a successful promotion, for the subject artist. I always enjoyed seeing their studios, and watching them work at their easels or potter's wheel. I watched, within only a few feet, as glass artist Jamie Sherman worked his magic at the furnace, in his former Bracebridge studio. I have spent a lot of time in my news career, in awe, writing about the creative work of others.

     It's the reason I had been considering work on a biography, of former Muskoka artist, Richard Karon. When I finally met the well known artist, at his Lake of Bays studio, back in the mid 1980's, he was, just then, closing his art business. Not only was he closing up his studio / gallery, and selling a large quantity of his remaining artwork, little did I appreciate, he was also giving-up painting as a profession. I was astonished, during the auction, held the same day as I finally met the artist, (who I had heard and read so much about), when the auctioneer's helpers began wading into a storage building, and dragging out rolls of paintings, some actually stuck together. They were selling these rolled up canvases together, and I remember getting three in one roll. The job was to separate them from each other. I knew when I saw this happening, it was not a typical close-out of an art studio, by the artist himself. Very few, if any professional artists, would allow their inferior work to be sold off. This work is usually destroyed, no matter how much value it might possess down the road. While it's true that estates for artists, often disregard last will directives on the disposal of sketches, and rejected studio work, the reason for it, is actually quite simple. The lesser works on the market, will affect the valuation of the better pieces held by investors. The mistake of the artists, usually, is that they often leave the task of getting-rid of unwanted panels, until it is too late. Sensing there is money to be made from even damaged or incomplete art panels, executors tend to overlook what was a sincere request by the artist before death. "Get rid of them." Which refers to the inferior work they don't wish to be made public. In the strange case of Mr. Karon, who was going through the early stages of a marital separation, he gave permission to sell this work he had previously rejected. This for an artist of his calibre, was like a magician giving up the secrets of his tricks. His failings and inconsistencies, in his own mind, as the artist, were being dumped onto the market. But there was something he hadn't really thought about, in his resignation to cease work as an artist.

     As I've written about, previously in this biography, something fascinating happened during the auction, that few patrons would have recognized as a "theme for the day." The artist was too emotionally distant and disgruntled to have appreciated what was happening in the audience. Most of the people, buying his art on that day, were folks who admired his work. They weren't bargain hunters or flea market vendors, looking to make a fast buck, by flipping these art pieces by the end of the week. In the crowd were friends, neighbors, cottagers, and art patrons who knew his talents as a painter. I may have been the only antique dealer that day, particularly interested in his art work…..but frankly, I was there as both a reporter and historian, because this was an important memory to preserve. What I saw that day, was his art work being "rescued," by people who had admiration for the painter. They weren't buying the cast-off originals for great future profit, but instead, because the art meant something to them. They knew the places he painted, and the times of day he preferred to capture his landscapes…..when the mist and light, and colors were most profoundly enchanting. It was as if he was flinging all the work he had ever invested, into the sky, and letting it fall upon the ground, as a poetic gesture of a failed career. In reality, quite the opposite held true. But what he hadn't anticipated, was the crowd of supporters, admirers, who wanted to own Richard Karon originals, no matter if they were seconds, or incomplete. As he stayed, for most of the auction, behind the counter in his gallery, selling the leftover panels still mounted on the walls, he missed seeing the show of respect for his creations. It was, for this observer, a tragic event, because it meant the end of a long and successful career. Had he known his art was being snapped up by those who respected his work, possibly it would have been a spark of optimism……that while having to sell his home / studio, it didn't mean he hadn't been a competent painter, creating desirable paintings. He couldn't separate a failed marriage from the well being of his profession, and all he could think about, following the closure of the Baysville studio, was positioning himself close to his young son, Richard Sahoff Karon, then only four years old. His long-time friend Eva Scheel, owner of the Log Cabin Gift Shop, told me during an interview, many years ago, that the painter was devastated by the break-up, and the thought of being separated from his young son, compelled him to move. In his mind, he had no choice but to re-locate, and his art became inconsequential. There is no disguising or muting the sense of tragic circumstance, he must have felt, at this time of his life. I'm afraid that by this point, no supportive editorial or heartfelt compliment, about acceptance of his work, would have changed his future. His satisfaction then, was that he was able to remain close to his son, for several more years, up to the last moments of life. His son was only seven when his father passed away. 

     I have in my possession, a number of curious art pieces, I obtained from a local second hand shop, several years ago. I was immediately attracted to them, and while vibrant, well executed abstract portraits, there was something more compelling about the panels, commanding me to bring them home. I have about twelve of this talented artist's signed originals, and some of the books he had in his art library. They had been signed by him. I remember, one morning, reading the weekly paper, and coming across an obituary for this same artist. When I happened to mention this to the manager of the store, later that same week, he was shocked to hear the news. The artist had only recently dropped the small collection of art work off at the store, to help the charity, stating then that he hoped the work could raise a few needed dollars for the organization. It was not a natural death, from what I have ascertained since. Distraught? Feeling it had been a failed career in the arts? Depression amongst artists is well documented, especially noted in the biographies of the world's best known creators. Karon was buoyed by a love for his family, his son, and knowing he was in the early stages of cancer himself, he wanted to spend as much time, as possible, with his son and namesake. Art became irrelevant, even when his wife, Irma, asked him, on numerous occasions, if he could paint a portrait of their son. Whether he outrightly refused, or just never followed-through, we don't know. But this may be the clear evidence, he had given up on art totally by this point…..which was post 1985, but not on life. In fact, strange as this may seem, he opened a small business to frame the work of other artists.

     It was because of the Karon auction, and the sadness of that day, and the circumstances that I had always been suspicious of, that did eventually, lead me to undertake his biography……which I feel, as I write this, was destiny in all its glory. The ends of the circle would meet. This is exactly what I told Richard Sahoff Karon, on the day I met with him, in January of this year, at my boys' music shop here in Gravenhurst. He was with his young daughter Aurora, and as I'm a pretty spiritual guy, it didn't take a medium to tell me, something positive was going to happen. The artist and the writer were going to come together once again, to complete the circle, for his son and granddaughter, and for subsequent generations of the Karon family. What was important to his son, had become imminently so for me, and work began immediately following our meeting. One might assume then, by the biography so far, that this is a markedly sad story. I find, myself, that the opposite holds true. It is an uplifting story, by the reality, the truth has prevailed, and what may have been perceived as irreparable, has in instead, been presented as opportunity for healing. 

     Join me tomorrow for the conclusion of the Richard Karon biography.

Richard Karon Part 8

What Did Richard Karon Want From His Art Career?

Did He Achieve His Objective? Earning a Living? Achieving Fame?

     Quite a number of people, who have been reading this biography, of Muskoka artist, Richard Karon, have admitted, being shocked to learn of the artist's tumultuous youth in Poland, in the years, from September 1939 until the war's end in 1945. Even those who knew the artist personally, and shared small-talk for years, are surprised to read about the oppression he and his family suffered at the hands of the Nazi occupiers. It wasn't something he felt comfortable discussing, and he was more contemporary in his conversations, unless it was with family. Even then, he didn't wish to burden them, with what he had learned to handle himself. It is of considerable importance to this biography, because of the fact he felt it necessary to conceal these experiences; events and personal involvements that affected his day to day living for decades. Whether or not he was chased by demons in his mind, or not, some of his characteristics, moods and attitudes, reflected his own suppression of the past. His second wife, Irma, had known of his great interest, in connecting with the family he had lost, and although he didn't make it seem like a mission, on his part, he spent many hours on the phone seeking out the family he had left behind in Poland. He never returned to Poland, after he had escaped the communists in 1948. There will be some readers appalled by what they learn of Poland, at the time, and others who may not fully appreciate the impact it had on the young artist. While this has been addressed in other chapters of this biography, it is also part of the conclusive overview, of the artist in our district, who admittedly, we knew very little about. The fact he had endured a horrible existence, as a young man, didn't make him a good artist. Richard Karon would not have discussed his Polish heritage, at all, if a friend or art patron hadn't inquired. He certainly didn't use his past to gain sympathy for his work, as a survivor of a terrible war. He was humble and modest in this regard, and wished to be judged as all artists are judged…..by the competence of his work, not on his prevailing biography. But his experiences were profound and influential, and can not be minimized, for the purposes of this biography, despite the fact the details may make us uncomfortable.

     "Another feature of Nazi rule was the concentration camp; by the summer of 1941 there were more than a dozen of these camps, and hundreds of smaller labour camps and prison centers, scattered throughout the Reich. These camps were filled with German opponents of Nazism, with homosexuals and others judged to be enemies of the new social order, with Polish intellectuals and political prisoners, and, but to a lesser extent, with Jews. Brutality ruled supreme in these camps, where death from savage beatings was a daily event." This passage was written by Holocaust Historian, Martin Gilbert, in his 1981 book, "Auschwitz and the Allies."

     "The letter from Bedzin (Poland) went on to tell of 80,000 Jews from German-occupied Western Poland who had been gassed at Chelmno and of the remaining 40,000 Jews of the Lodz ghetto who were sealed in the ghetto 'doomed to die of hunger and wasting away.' Only 20,000 Jews were still alive in Lithuania, in three ghettoes, at Vilna, Kovno and Shauliai. The rest of Lithuania,  had become Judenrein, 'purged of all Jews.' As for the cities of Warsaw, Lublin, Czestochowa, and Cracow, each of them once with flourishing Jewish communities, 'today there are no longer any Jews.' They had been exterminated in Treblinka, the famous extermination camp, not only for Polish Jews, but also for Jews from Holland, Belgium and elsewhere," writes Martin Gilbert. Richard Karon was from Czestochowa. He watched it all unfold. He was only eleven years old when the Nazi invasion occurred. In his early twenties, when Karon decided that his past, under Nazi confinement, then to be replaced by the new controlling hand of communism, would have marked the death knell of the artist within, his daring escape with other dissidents, from Poland, must have been a most breath-taking experience, violently teetering between fear and exhilaration. He freed himself from oppression. He was a survivor, and of this, he was proud.  

     Richard Karon didn't reveal a lot about himself to anyone. He took a lot of secrets to the grave. What he didn't talk about, were those tragedies he clearly couldn't talk about. He did not possess the capability, in his life, to make sense of what he had witnessed in his native Poland, during the Nazi occupation. It would be a parallel situation, for many survivors and witnesses of the Nazi savagery. With Richard Karon, you can put a face to that witness, that survivor, and what revelations he made, to select few individuals over the span of his life, generated the kind of silence he disliked. He didn't wish to shock anyone with the truth of what he had experienced, and witnessed, of Jews being murdered in his community; many he and his family had become friends, beaten publicly, tortured and executed in front of him. It was a message the Nazi occupiers wanted the citizenry to appreciate……that they could meet the same fate. In fact, it was what his mother had received, brutally, when suspected of being somehow connected to the Polish underground. Watching Jewish youngsters, trying to escape their captors, being shot on the streets of his beautiful, historic city, had a profound influence on the soon-to-be artist. He knew, from a young age, the right time to speak, and the wrong time. He understood what Nazi guards wanted to hear, and how it was to be spoken. When he may have wished to strike out, and defend those who were being brutalized, he understood that it would be signing his own death warrant, and potentially warrants for his family. Retaliation, in this young man's position, would have been a short-lived act of misplaced hubris. The reader may be surprised to know just how close to death the young man had been, on many occasions, from September 1939 until 1945. The paintings you may possess, signed Richard Karon, are the result of a man's capability to survive incredible odds. He had been threatened by a Nazi guard, and a gun held to his head, for stealing bread to help his family. If he had been Jewish, the end would have come swiftly, at that moment. The future artist, dead!

     We have all had our brushes with death, at one point or the other, during long lives. Most of us though, haven't had such a precarious life and death crisis, extending for more than five years, when at any moment, caused by any suspicion whatsoever, the end could come quickly and without warning. Much as if living in a confined space with poisonous snakes, with no exit strategy except basic survival or suicide. For many, suicide was a viable alternative. It is said that Karon learned to live within the barbs of Nazi occupation, because of his interest in art. It pre-occupied his mind, at a time when all else was a horror unfolding. He did talk about the sights and sounds of war, and explained how horrible it was to see and hear the Jews jammed inhumanely into boxcars, moving along the tracks near his home, screaming for help……when there was no help possible. No act or heroics singularly, would have ended with anything less than death, shot on sight. The boxcars would still have rattled down those silver rails, toward death camps. The hell on earth was that there was so little that could be done, to make even the least amount of difference, to the plight of these Polish citizens, Adolph Hitler wished to exterminate, in his Final Solution.

     When you look at one of Richard Karon's art panels, mounted above your fireplace mantle, or hung in a livingroom, or diningroom, or cottage sunroom, you may feel differently, upon reading this biography, and knowing the true story about an artist, who was purposely evasive in life, about the true measure of his past. It was obvious, he felt survivor's guilt, common for those who witness such horrors in life, but are spared to re-enact those tragedies until their own eventual end. A recent figure on the suicides of American veterans, was, if I remember correctly, said to average one every two hours of every day, of every year, due to the mental burdens inflicted by war…..and the return home for what can never be a normal life. In Canada, we are learning much more about the toll of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and the downward spiral of returning soldiers who are affected. While there is no evidence Richard Karon ever raised a gun to fight the occupying force, or evidence that he killed a Nazi, as he may have desired, he was witness to enough brutality and death, to have left lasting trauma, that was never treated…..and as such did affect his quality of life, and may have eventually cost him his second marriage to wife Irma.

     What I have been impressed by, as the author of this biography, is that Richard Karon found his peace at last, in Muskoka. Of many places in the province he could have set up his art studio, he found a small acreage that suited his interests, in the Township of Lake of Bays……his idea of paradise on earth. The artist had found his vehicle of liberation, working in Muskoka. It's not as if he could leave his PTSD behind him, or avoid having flashbacks, about what he had witnessed, because that was impossible. There is no evidence he had ever attended a therapist, and at this time, little was known about the disorder, and how it affected its sufferers. He found the nature studies best suited to his own feelings, of freedom of expression, democracy and liberation from everything else he had known, including poverty. As he had always been a survivor, even as a young man, having to steal food in order to survive, he had the confidence in himself, that he could generate a good income in Muskoka. He made a sensible decision. While it did take a number of years to earn a following, his paintings weren't depictions of landscapes elsewhere. Many of his scenes were identifiable, and he told those who purchased panels, exactly where the art works had been inspired. These were home-inspired paintings that reflected not only the enchantments of natural Muskoka, but were very much studies of the Township of Lake of Bays. He was proud to be called a local artist by those who knew him. Writer's at the time, who critiqued his work in published reviews, called him a Canadian artist. This must have made him feel enormously proud, of what he had accomplished from his unfortunate start in life.

     I think, as his biographer, he would have been very pleased, if a reviewer, even today, was to refer to him as a Polish-Canadian artist, as this would conclusively validate, all the days of his life, invested in the pursuit of this great love for art.

     Arguably, Richard Karon escaped through his art. Possibly, during more prolific periods, he simply needed to escape more often. It might be assumed he painted more, to create more product to sell from his home / studio. This wouldn't be a wrong assessment entirely, because he was a man who knew how to hustle in order to provide for his family. There are those who knew him well, and his artwork, who would claim they knew the artist's prevailing mood, by the way the palette knife had been wielded on that particular day. Which is not an uncommon observation to make of artist's and their creative enterprise. Studying his paintings of waterfalls and rapids, one can see how impressed he was by the power generated by the tumble of water over rocks, and the thunder it produced as he sketched at its side. They are quite different from his passive landscapes, that might remind the viewer of postcards they've seen before. Karon began in this way, as a young artist, sketching scenes he found on old postcards, his family, friends and neighbors gave him to copy. It is known that many of the scenes he painted, in Ontario from the early 60's, had been based on photographs taken by the artist, on trips back into the woods. His son, Richard Sahoff Karon, possesses all his father's slides, taken from the 1960's to the 1980's. They are presently stored in the wood chest the artist carved, that reminds his son, when opened, of the wonderful smell of the forest, on the woodlot where the family house had been constructed near Baysville.

     It can be said, of Richard Karon, that he felt an uncertain, unspecified amount of guilt throughout his life, for what he had witnessed in Poland, during the Nazi occupation. Events he had witnessed, as close as having smelled the hot smoke of exploded gun-powder, and the sharp ringing in his ear, and the unavoidable scent of death….the sight of so much blood, so much human suffering, and so much exposure to the meaning of death. When you look upon one of his strikingly beautiful, and alluring landscapes, it seems so amazing, reckoning how he found the reason to, so poignantly, celebrate life, and the restorations he found within nature, here in Muskoka. He refused to allow the past to destroy the freedom, he felt had been earned, through hard work, and survival instincts.

     Most recently, his son wrote me a profoundly heartfelt email, that he had, just the day before, visited his father's gravesite, in a churchyard in Richmond Hill, Ontario, with the purpose, on that occasion, of letting his father know, people were fondly remembering and celebrating his work once more…….and that his biography was being read by many of his former friends and art patrons, who he had thought so much about, in his studio days, near the Village of Baysville, in the Township of Lake of Bays. As he had only been a child, when his father passed away from lung cancer, in 1987, admittedly, he set about this mission of discovery, as much for his daughter Aurora…….., so she would one day, know more about her grandfather, than he had known. Growing up with very little appreciation for what his father had endured in his life, or the successes he had earned as a respected landscape artist. For his son, the knowledge acquired over the past two years of personal research, and the most recent four months of intensive sleuthing, has been nothing short of remarkable, by his own admission. He wishes to thank all those folks, who knew his father personally, and art owners, who still cherish Karon originals, for taking the time to meet with him, and show him the art works in their possession.  He has a much clearer perspective of his father, "poppa" and an appreciation of how his explorations in creativity, were his means of escape……without running away from what were, a plethora of troubling memories. He was not an artist who suffered for his craft. He was very much a creator who benefitted from art. Much as if, by his own design, it was a huge, gaping hole, to a portal of ethereal existence…….much as if he imbedded his soul in every landscape he painted…….a shade of nature…..the artist.

     It is the 23rd day of April, 2012. It is snowing. I have just returned from a brisk walk out into the Bog, here at Birch Hollow, and found snow accumulations on the branches of our budding lilacs. The heavy, gusting wind, has already knocked down some of the feeble birches, and the leaves that one neighbor dutifully raked this weekend, have already this afternoon, blown back onto his lawn. There is more snow forecast for our region much later in the day. Despite the inclement weather, and discouraging late season snowfall, the birds are chirping contently in the pine boughs, and the daffodils and tulips in the garden, although snow-dusted, are as cheerful and uplifting as ever. On many occasions, during the first part of this biographic research, which began in early January, there were many warmer days than this chilly, blustery afternoon in South Muskoka. Yet it is the kind of day, I can still wander about these haunted woodlands, and with great optimism, look upon the forest floor of emerging ferns, their green nubs rising from the wet ground cover, and hear the tiny creeks gurgling beneath the mounds of old grasses, and feel in spirit, the strong pull of regeneration, and rebirth, in this wondrous spring of the year. I can look at many scenes, from different vantage points here, and see the exciting opportunities for an artist like Richard Karon, to capture them on canvas. I have enjoyed all the opportunities that have been afforded me, during work on this biography. I will not be able to walk through this lowland again, without feeling I'm in the company of Mr. Karon, making me aware of the art within nature. Without ever intending it, he has been my tutor in art, my mentor in nature studies.